


Millicent & Theo

by RosevalleyNB



Series: Unconventional, Almost Unlikely [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Lust Potion/Spell, No War-AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosevalleyNB/pseuds/RosevalleyNB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was unsure of what to do now. This wasn’t right. Why was she doing this. What was wrong with her? Respectable girls didn’t bring strangers into their bedroom. Although, he wasn’t really a stranger, was he? That had to count for something.</p><p> </p><p>Theo lost a bet, Millicent is the one suffering from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally published as a one-shot back in the summer of 2014. I've divided it up into chapters for reading comfort.
> 
> Please note that most chapters are divided as followed:
> 
> Present day- Dialogue only  
> Flashback in Italics  
> Present day

“It’s show time, mate.”

 

“Must I?”

 

“There are consequences to losing a bet, Theo. And you’ve lost.”

 

“But her? She’s my friend. Isn’t there someone else? Anyone?”

 

“No, her. You’ve agreed to it.”

 

“I only agreed before I knew Flint got injured. You know the Tornadoes are nothing without him.”

 

“See it as a way to get back at that troll, then. She’s his cousin after all.”

 

“He’ll kill me if he finds out and you know it. Besides, only you two and I will know about this. It’s bad enough as it is.

 

“True. But, so is the Tornadoes losing the Cup to Puddlemere.”

 

“Fine, you pricks. Any ideas on how to go about it? It’s not as if she’s one of the easiest girls.”

 

…

 

“Put two drops of this in your drink. You can pour the rest in the one you’re buying for her. She looks, uhm, thirsty.”

 

“What is this?”

 

“Just a brew… It will make her receptive to your advances. Let’s keep it that.”

 

“Why do _I_ need it?”

 

“ _You_ need it in order not bollocks it up. You need to relax or else she won’t even take the drink from you. You know how difficult she can be.”

 

“No, I don’t. She’s always nice to me.”

 

…

 

“Why do you walk around with this stuff anyway?”

 

“…I don’t walk around with it. Just brought along as a- uhm… To help you! Yes, to help you.”

 

…

 

“I’m gonna to talk to her now.”

 

“Yes, you keep telling us. The evening is almost over, you know.”

 

“Yes, I know. Give me that phial.”

 

“Remember, just two drops for you.”

 

“Right… I’m ready. I’m going over there now.”

 

“Don’t forget; you need to show us her knickers as proof!”

 

 “You’re an arse, Zabini.”

 

…

 

“You think he’ll get the job done?”

 

“Yeah, that stuff can loosen up a marble statue. Surely, it’ll work on her.”

 

“Hey, Zabini?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“ _Why_ do you walk around with that stuff?”

 

…

 

“Sometimes you scare me, mate.”

 

… 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

_Hidden in a dark corner of the grand ballroom, Millicent looked around the room in boredom. She’d rather be anywhere else than here. Whilst her colleagues were enjoying themselves, she kept glancing at the clock every five minutes, counting down the minutes until she could go home._

_When her supervisor, Mrs Norton, had found out that Millicent was planning on skipping the festivities, she had given her an official order her to attend tonight. From the get-go, the woman had made it her mission to ‘socialise’ Millicent, as she called it. She probably meant well, in her own pushy and intimidating way. However, to Millicent, it felt as if there was something wrong with her. It made her feel as if were her fault that her colleagues preferred to pretend that she didn’t exist. And maybe, in an unfair way, it was._

_For more than two years now, since finishing Hogwarts, Millicent worked as an interoffice assistant at the Ministry. Her job was to sort out the administration and fill in as a secretary in whatever department requested help. She loved her job but hated the forced contact with her colleagues. She wasn’t an extrovert person and usually kept her distance, which was often mistaken for arrogance. The truth, however, was that she didn't know how to handle herself in certain situations. In her younger years at Hogwarts, she used to blurt out whatever came up in her head or resorted to using her fists whenever she felt wronged, often embarrassing herself and angering others. And then there was the issue of her looks. In comparison to other witches, she was too tall, too fat, and less than elegant._

_Or so she was told._

_To avoid awkwardness and embarrassment, she had learnt during her schooling years to keep to herself. Unfortunately, what had worked during her last two years at school had backfired when her professional career had started. Her reserved attitude made her a thankful subject to her colleagues’ gossip and snide remarks. Even more so since her father’s arrest last year for his involvement in the smuggle of Dark Artefacts into the country. Damn that man and his hobbies._

_The old Millicent would have told her colleagues to go fuck themselves. But between the gratefulness of being allowed to keep her job despite her father’s thoughtless actions and her commitment to being the best version of herself she could be, the new Millicent merely shrugged her shoulders and kept on working. Even if that meant crying in the loo now and then._

_Recently, she had applied to a job opening at the Department of Documentation and Preservation, or in short, the Ministry archives. Hidden deep down in the lowest levels of the Ministry, she wouldn’t need to deal with nosy and gossipy colleagues on a daily basis. Aside from that, the archives were shambolic at best, and she was confident that she'd be able to sort them out. Thankfully, there weren't many applicants as it wasn’t exciting job or conducive to one’s career, so it was just a matter of time and completing formalities before she’d receive the memo telling her that she got the job._

_All she had to do was wait like she was doing now._

_Sighing out of boredom, she drank the last of the water in her glass. It did nothing for her parched throat. Just as she glanced up at the clock in hopes that her torture was nearing its end, her eye fell on the three men across the room from her; Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and Theodore Nott. Her former Housemates, and sort-of friends. The only one still talking to her was the latter, the other two pricks only acknowledged her when they needed something._

_She watched Theo longingly, the boy she’d fancied since her first day at Hogwarts. He was always nice to her, taking his time to have a chat whenever they ran into each other. Every so often, she found herself drowning in his green eyes whenever he was near and imagined running her hands through his soft-looking brown hair._

_But doing that would be inappropriate; he was engaged to Daphne after all. The beautiful and elegant Daphne Greengrass, one of her few friends. Not that Theo would ever think of her in that way, no one ever had. She may have lost some weight since Hogwarts; she was still bigger than the average witch. She wasn't as dainty or pretty as Daphne. Or flirty like Pansy. Nor was she as mysterious as Tracey. No, she was just big Millie with a foul mouth and lack of grace, nothing special. She didn’t even have a respectable family name or fortune to compensate for what she lacked in the looks and personality department._

_Spinsterhood was her fate, and she had, albeit begrudgingly, resigned to that._

_Averting her eyes, she watched the various couples on the dance floor in envy. How would it be like to dance with Theo like that, to be in his arms while he guided her through the room? How would it feel like when he pulled her against his chest and kissed her like they did in those Muggle films?_

‘Quit dreaming, Millicent,’ _she scolded herself. Theo was engaged to be married; it wasn’t proper to think about him like that._

_But still, how would it be like to do that?_

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

Too bright sunlight tried to penetrate through her closed lids and disturbed one of the best dreams she had. Bemoaning herself for not closing the curtains before going to bed, she threw her arm over eyes in hope to fall asleep again and continue where she had left off. Unfortunately, she had no such luck.

 

Her head was pounding to an awful beat, and as the sleepy haziness dissipated, she became aware of the horrible taste in her mouth that confirmed her overindulgence in Firewhisky the previous evening at the Ministry Employee Ball. Or ‘Another Way to Torture Millicent’ as she liked to call the mandatory get-togethers.

 

To add insult to injury, Pansy was trying her hand at making breakfast again. The smell of burnt toast, greasy bacon, and too bitter coffee wafted through the air. When would she learn that cooking wasn't one of her talents? Or any other domestic task, for that matter. Groaning and cussing, Millicent pulled her covers over her head. The shade relieved her eyes from the evil light and blocked out the foul odour.

 

Safe and warm in her cocoon, it didn't take long for her eyes to start drooping again. But something felt off, something she couldn’t quite figure out. Sleepily glancing down her body, she noticed her nakedness.

 

Confused, she rubbed her eyes to make sure that she wasn't dreaming and looked back down again. Surely, she was mistaken.

 

She rarely slept without dressing into a nightgown, the habit ingrained by her mother. The old hag used to say that a true lady always went to bed in sleep clothes to protect her modesty. And as Millicent wasn’t the prime example of natural femininity in her delicate mother’s eyes, the older Bulstrode woman had tried hard to mould her daughter into one.

 

 

Millicent threw the blankets off and sat upright to study her body. Yes, even in the sunlight she was starkers. Not only that, there were angry red scratches on her large breasts and bruises on her round hips.

 

‘It's about time you lose the weight, darling.’

 

Shaking her head to mute her mother’s voice, she noticed something else. A white trail mixed with a rusty red had dried up on her inner thighs. It wasn't time for her monthly and even it was, it had never looked like that before. What the hell had she done last night?

 

A soft sound in the shady corner of her room made her head snap up. A move she immediately came to regret as it hurt her pounding head. When she heard the noise again, she gingerly tilted her head in an attempt to figure out what had caused the noise. Her heart began hammering in her chest, and her breathing picked up in panic when noticed someone was in her room. It didn’t take her long to recognise who it was.

 

There, in her old rocking chair, the one her Gran had left her and the only thing she had managed to salvage before the Ministry had seized the Bulstrode assets after her father’s indiscretions, sat Theodore Nott. He just sat there, rocking back and forth as he watched her, his face an unreadable mask.

 

In a too late attempt to save her modesty, she pulled up her blankets up to her chin as her cheeks flushed a bright red. In fact, she was sure that her whole body was red in embarrassment. The only time a man had seen her naked had been her father, right after her birth. To check if she really wasn’t a boy, according to one of her mother's favourite stories, which she used to tell cackling with glee.

 

“Nott? What are you doing here?” Her voice was hoarse, and her throat felt raw. What had she done last night?

 

He remained quiet, still staring and rocking. His usually well-kept hair was dishevelled and his expensive clothes rumpled. To her chagrin, she noticed that his trousers and shirt were open, baring parts of his body not meant for her eyes.

 

‘Dammit. Please, cover up.’

 

“Nott? Answer me, you arse. Why are you here?”

 

After a few moments of silence, he finally stood up and took a few tentative steps in her direction. Instinctively, she pressed her back against the headboard. She was rarely scared but having a man in her room while starkers made her feel too vulnerable and uneasy. To her great relief, he stopped halfway, shaking his head in disappointed it seemed and dressed himself, thank Merlin.

 

“Don’t you remember last night?” he asked quietly.

 

“We were at the party.” Millicent frowned as she tried to remember what had happened after he gave her a drink. She didn’t get any further than thinking how good the whisky had tasted and how much she had enjoyed his company.

 

“We had fun last night,” Theo said out of the blue. His lips curled up into a half-smile as he nodded in expectation.

 

“Fun? W-what do you mean?” She growled in frustration when his smile faltered, and he muttered something under his breath instead of answering her. "What do you mean, Nott?"

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his lips pressed into a grim line. Then, as if a switch flipped, he snapped his head up, smirking. “We had so much fun last night that I had to put up silencing charms. Pansy would’ve had a good show if I hadn’t. But in all honesty, Millie, it was quite flattering how you screamed out my name. Several times over, in fact. Gives a bloke something to brag about.”

 

He bent down to pick up something off the floor and tucked it in his pocket. It was her sensible, worn out, cotton knickers. The ones her dorm mates at Hogwarts had often ridiculed her for. Her granny drawers as Pansy still called them.

 

“I’ll keep this as a reminder. It was a…interesting night, after all. One for the Pensieve, if you ask me. Not that I’d forget, of course.”

 

“What did you do?” Millicent demanded to know as dread formed in the pit of her stomach. This couldn't be happening; it was a misunderstanding. He was playing with her. Any minute now, she’d wake up and laugh about this silly dream, like she often did after waking up from one of her Theo-centric dreams. Why wasn’t she waking up now?

 

“Nothing you didn’t want. You were quite demanding, honestly. All over me at the party and you practically dragged me back here.” He chuckled at the memory. “Gods, you were a real minx, you know that? I mean, it’s that I saw the evidence, but honestly, I would have thought that you had done this before. You're a natural.”

 

“What are you on about?” Millicent asked in a small voice as her hands tightened around the blanket she’d clutched against her chest.

 

“You can’t remember?” For the briefest moment, a deep scowl distorted Theo’s features. By the time he spoke again, though, his expression had returned to that one of indifference. “Ouch, Bulstrode, am I that forgettable? But that’s to be expected with the number of drinks you had, I guess. Well, it’s been fun and all. I must be leaving now.”

 

Just before he Apparated, Theo turned around one more time. The impermeable mask in its place. “I trust you’ll to keep this between us. I don’t think that Daphne'd appreciate it if she were to find out that you’ve seduced her fiancé. You know how she can get. But if you want another go, owl me, I won't mind.”

 

For a long time, Millicent stared at the spot where Theo had stood, trying to process what was happening. He was lying; she would never do what he’d implied that she had done. She had never taken a man home, never done…that, not before marriage. She wouldn’t, never. It wasn’t proper. Her parents had raised her better than that.

 

Her vision became blurry, and the first of her tears fell as she thought about the other possibility.

 

What if it was true? No one could know of this. She didn’t have the best name as it was, it would only add to the shame. It was for the best to forget about it; pretend it hadn't happened. Yes, she could do that. She had to. Theo was lying, and this was a nightmare she needed to wake up from.

 

This never happened.

 

Carefully, Millicent slid out bed and rushed to the adjacent bathroom. Her legs felt wobbly, and the soreness between them made her wince. The pain was too real.

 

This never happened.

 

Her determination to deny it had ever happened, to forget, didn’t stop the sobs that shook her whole body as she sat huddled in the shower. Her salty tears mixed with the hot streams as the sound of running water drowned out her cries. It took her a long time to feel clean again.  


	2. Chapter 2

“You’ve actually done it?”

 

 …

 

“Well, have you?”

 

“Yeah. That was the deal.”

 

“You got the knickers to proof it?”

 

…

 

“Well? Show us!”

 

…

 

“Sweet Salazar, those are big!”

 

…

 

“Now what?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“She’s Daphne’s friend. She was...is my friend. How I’m supposed to face her again? And then there is Daphne.

 

…

 

“You feel guilty, don’t you?”

 

…

 

“Don’t worry; it’ll pass.”

 

…

 

“So, is she going to be quiet about it? She must have expectations now, being a Pureblood and all.”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“We’ve come to an understanding of some sorts. I think.”

 

“Ah, I guess that means that you've told her not say a word about what happened. Which one did you use; the loss of her reputation or the no one will believe you?”

 

“Daphne.”

 

“Right. Yeah, that ought to work as well.”

 

…

 

“Why did you ask which excuse I used? You’ve done this too, haven’t you? The potion you gave me?”

 

…

 

“Who?”

 

…

 

“Oh. Oh, her. That explains the lack of pitchforks. Is that why she left?”

 

…

 

“You’ve never felt guilty about it?”

 

“What’s there to feel guilty about? It was just a shag.”

 

…

 

“So, how was it?”

 

“Fuck off, Zabini.”

 

“Oh, come on. What if I want to give her a try? I’d need to know if she’s worth the trouble.”

 

“Leave her alone!”

 

…

 

“You really should learn how to share. So? Is she any good?”

 

“Get the fuck out my house, you arse!”

 

…

 

“You’re a wanker, Nott.”

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

_“Millie? Millicent Bulstrode, is that you?”_

_“Honestly, Theo?” She rolled her eyes in an attempt to hide her excitement. Hopefully, she wouldn't turn a beet red because he was talking to her like the last time. It was Hogwarts all over again. “Yes, you prick. It’s me. Have you hit your head? Should I call for a Healer?”_

_“No, no! It’s just, uhm." He offered her a smile. "It's just, uh, you look good tonight. I, uh, didn’t recognise you.”_

_“You don’t say.” Millicent cocked an eyebrow; what was he playing at? Had he come over to talk to her out of obligation? Was he embarrassed to be seen with her? And just like that, her excitement vanished like snow under the Saharan sun._

_“Drop the charade, Theo. What do you want?”_

_“I mean it. Take a compliment for once, will you? Like a proper witch.”_

_“So, now you’re saying I’m not a proper witch?”_

_“Oh, Merlin.” Theo sighed in exasperation and combed his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean it like that.”_

_“How did you mean then?” Millicent wasn’t offended; she’d heard worse before, in her face and behind her back. But it was amusing to see him flustered._

_“Not in the way you apparently think I did. Look, can I buy you a drink? As an apology.”_

_As it was, after spending almost two hours in a secluded, warm corner and being ignored by most of her colleagues, Millicent was thirsty and lonely. She hadn’t brought enough money with her to get through her ordeal, expecting it to be an open bar. Trust the Ministry misers to make their employees pay for their own drinks at a party thrown in their honour._

_“I won’t say no to that. A Firewhisky, please,” she said, unsure if it had been a genuine offer or not. It wasn’t often that someone bought her a drink._

_"Great, I'll be right back." Theo winked at her and made his way to the bar._

_“With ice,” she called after him, feeling giddy at the prospect of a drink. Offered to her by Theo. She must be dreaming; she just had to be._

_When a broadly smiling Theo returned a few minutes later with two glasses filled to the rim in his hand, she couldn’t help but smile back. It was an involuntary reaction, always had been. His smile had a way of making the butterflies in her stomach awake from hibernation. Honestly, how could she not smile?_

_“I’ve got you a double. I reckoned you could use. Uhm, it's warm in here, so...yeah.”_

_“Yes, it is. Thank you.”_

_To her surprise, she emptied her glass within minutes as he talked about the match the Tornadoes lost earlier that day and something about her cousin, which she didn’t care to hear. As she studied her empty glass in amazement, she realised that she must have been more parched than she had initially thought. Of course, that her drink had lacked the usual foul taste of the first sip also had something to do with it. So, this was how the good stuff tasted. It was almost like sugar water and tasted like more._

_“So, Millie. What’s new with you?”_

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~ 

 

The Ditzy Dragon was so crowded for lunch time that all Millicent managed to get was a wobbly table hidden in the very back, near the kitchens. The various smells wafting through the air each time the kitchen doors opened made her stomach churn and bile rise in her throat, but she held her ground. She was going to spend her lunch hour here, no matter how sick she felt. It was time to end her self-induced seclusion and experience daylight and crowds again.

 

For weeks now, she only left her flat to go to work, spent the whole day in the archives, and go back home. She'd avoided human contact as much as possible, afraid that someone would see the disgrace written all over her face. She saw it each time she looked at herself in the mirror, how could others not?

 

The only person she saw with any regularity since that faithful morning was her flatmate, Pansy. They usually exchanged a few words during breakfast and dinner before Millicent locked herself in the archives or her room. If her friend had noticed anything wrong with her, she hadn't commented on it. Or maybe she had, but Millicent hadn’t heard it. That did tend to happen often lately.

 

No matter how hard she tried to block it, her mind always found a way to betray her and replay that morning in an infinite loop at the most inconvenient times. And each time, the humiliation and anger grew to unsustainable proportions. The things she should have said and done kept popping up in her head; hexing him, filing a complaint with the MLE or hell, tell Marcus even. He would know what to do with Theo. But as it was, she hadn’t done any of those things. Instead, she hid away like a kicked puppy and let Theo get away with it. Besides, who would believe her? She was a Bulstrode, not a prime example of reliability in the eyes of most.

 

It took more than a week for the bruises and scratches on her body to vanish completely. She’d been too distressed to heal herself and hadn’t dared to ask Pansy. That would have required an explanation, and she wasn’t ready for saying aloud what had happened nor was she imaginative enough to come up with an excuse.

 

Theo had said she'd remember. And she did. Sort of.

 

Bits and pieces of that night popped up now and then. So far, she remembered chatting and laughing with him while downing the drinks he kept on giving her. She remembered snogging outside the ballroom after he’d suggested to get some fresh air. She remembered how he’d pressed himself against her as soon as the doors had closed behind them. She had let her guard down and given into desire, had felt desired. She remembered doing all those things, which upset her even more because it was out of character for her.

 

And with each new detail, she felt more ashamed of herself. He was Daphne’s betrothed. How was she ever going to face her friend again? She had managed to ignore the owls Daphne had sent over the weeks and made excuses not to attend their weekly witches’ night out. Yesterday, Pansy had asked if they had a falling out that she wasn’t aware of. Instead of answering, Millicent had come up with an excuse and fled to her room, again.

 

However, the most the most important part of that night still hadn't come to her. She didn't remember saying no or what had happened afterwards. Had she allowed him to do that as well? Shaking her head in frustration and anger, she willed herself to lock away the thoughts and memories. Replaying them didn’t change a damned thing, no matter how hard she wished it would.

 

The door to the kitchen opened again, allowing her a peek inside. Numerous elves ran around with hot pots and pans, happily chattering with each other. Their glee was infectious, and Millicent’s lips curled up into a small smile at the sight of the creatures. Until a fresh supply of baked-onions-and-liver smell wafted by that is. The sudden urge to vomit took her by surprise. She swallowed hard as her hands curled into balls in her lap.

 

“Loo,” she muttered as she stood up. Hopefully, she’d make it there without attracting too much attention and embarrassing herself. Still, she must have moved too fast. The sudden dizziness and black spots floating before her eyes caught her off guard and before she knew it, she fell over and hit her head at the corner of a table.

 

Before she passed out completely, she noticed Daphne Greengrass falling on her knees alongside her. She held her hand as she talked to her in a far too high-pitched voice. Millicent couldn’t make out the words or reply because behind Daphne’s stood her fiancé. The last person Millicent wanted to see.

 

Lucky for her, her world went dark soon after. 


	3. Chapter 3

“I heard you had an eventful day.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

…

 

“What happened?”

 

…

 

“Theo?”

 

“Millicent passed out at the Ditzy. And Daphne, being the good friend she is, had to help her, of course. We spent the whole afternoon at St. Mungo’s.”

 

“That must have been awkward? To meet her for lunch, I mean.”

 

“We didn’t meet her. She happened to be there. We didn’t even see her until she went down.”

 

“I would have loved to see that! Must have been a laugh… Ouch, what’s that for?”

 

…

 

“So, what’s wrong with her?”

 

…

 

“Come on. I was just taking the piss. Is she alright?”

 

“I wouldn’t know. Flint ordered us to leave after he spoke to the Healer. He was spitting fire for some reason. You should have seen his face. No wonder he wins all the matches he plays in, the competition flies in the opposite direction when they see him coming.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. Why was Flint there?”

 

“Next of kin and all. Daphne insisted on owling for him.”

 

...

 

“Say, Zabini?”

 

“What?”

 

…

 

“Spill it, Nott.”

 

…

 

“Theo?”

 

“It’s just… I don’t know. I feel guilty, I guess.”

 

“Still? Why?”

 

“Why do you think?”

 

“She’ll get over it.”

 

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see her…after. You said she would be open for it. Instead, she looked at me as if I were some monster.”

 

…

 

“She’ll get over it.”

 

“So, you keep saying. Will I get over it?”

 

“Why do you care so much? About her, I mean.”

 

“I care because she is my friend. And yours, if I remember correctly.”

 

“Meh, it’s Bulstrode.”

 

…

 

“You’re a heartless bastard, Zabini.”   

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

_“Merlin, Millie. You feel good.”_

_Millicent reckoned she should push him off and hex him touching her like this. But out of all the things she ought to be doing or saying, she merely managed was utter a strangled moan when his hand sneaked under her skirt. It felt too good, an excitement she had never felt before rushed through her body and made her knees weak. She knew it was wrong; he was to marry one of her friends next year._

_She pressed her forehead against his shoulder when he brushed over her clit again. Suddenly, she wanted more. See him, feel him against and inside her._

_“I want more,” she managed to pant out, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of her mind. There, another Millicent was scolding her for being a wanton hussy, telling her that she should leave now, alone, before she did something she would regret in the end. Silencing that version of her turned out to be easy enough when he slid a second finger inside and put more pressure on her clit. The overload of sensations left her with just enough breath to chant his name._

_“Take us to your flat,” Theo groaned in her ear, his warm breath against her flushed skin sent shivers down her spine._

_Without thinking, she nodded; she'd do anything he asked of her. And later, as she led him by the hand to the public Floo-connection, she decided to deal with the consequences in the morning._

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

Millicent held up her hand as she tried to shield her eyes from the bright light pouring into the room. The feeling of déjà vu was hard to shake off. Her brain was pounding inside her skull, trying to break free from its confinement and crawl out through her eyes. The bright sun was, again, very blinding and her mouth felt as dry as sandpaper. Squinting, she looked down at herself. Thankfully, instead of lying starkers in her bed, as she had expected, she found herself wearing a light blue robe. What she hadn't expected was to find herself in a bed and a room she didn’t recognise.

 

She did, however, recognise the people around her. On her right sat Katie, Marcus’ wife, sniggering to herself as she read an older edition of Witch Weekly with, at the time, the newest Tornadoes’ purchase on the cover, which happened to be her now-husband. To the left sat Pansy, shooting nervous looks between her and the back of the room. Because there was Marcus, pacing up and down and muttering to himself.

 

Having grown up with Marcus, Millicent knew him very well; from his little mannerisms to the meaning behind his tone of voice and facial expressions, he held no secrets for her. The way he was behaving now, for example, meant something serious had happened, and he was trying hard to stay calm. And failing miserably at it.

 

“You’re awake!” Pansy squealed relieved when she caught Millicent’s eye and leant in, “I think he’s lost his marbles. For real this time.”

 

“No, he hasn’t. It's a lot to take in, s'all. He’ll be fine,” Katie replied as she put her magazine down. She was always the first to defend her husband to others. Patting Millicent’s hand, she asked, “How are you feeling, love? Any nausea? A headache, maybe?”

 

“A bit thirsty. What’s a lot to take in?” Millicent asked, confused. “Where am I?”

 

“You’re at St. Mungo’s. We’ll talk about the details when we get home, yeah? I’ll get you a glass.”

 

Millicent focussed on Marcus, who was still pacing up and down. Now and then, he stopped dead in his tracks to shake his head and mutter something or the other under his breath before he resumed his pacing. Whatever his problem was, it had to do with her, which didn't ease her mind at all.

 

“I would like to discuss it here if you don’t mind. Being in public and all.” Millicent cocked her head at Marcus, who was still muttering something unintelligible and waggling his finger at something only he seemed to see. All she could make up were ‘karma’ and ‘understand’. He made no sense at all.

 

“Very wise,” Pansy agreed quietly. “You should have seen him earlier. Like a rabid Selkie, he was.”

 

Marcus suddenly stopped his pacing and stared at Millicent. She wondered if his creased forehead would ever be smooth again. His brows seemed to have fused together permanently.

 

“Katie, Pansy. Leave us for a while.”

 

Marcus sounded deceptively levelled, but Millicent knew better. He was furious, and someone was about to get the brunt of it. That annoying little voice in her head told her she was the chosen one for today.

 

“No,” Katie challenged her husband as she handed Millicent a glass of water. “You leave, and we’ll talk to her. This is no news for you to bring.”

 

Millicent stared up in awe at Katie. She knew that you had to be a fool or have a death wish to go against Marcus when he spoke in that tone. Even after three, she hadn't figured out in which category Katie belonged.

 

“For fuck's sake, Bell. Don’t argue with me. Not on this, do as you’re told.”

 

"Excuse me?" Katie slowly rose from her chair and planted her hands on her hips, her nose raised high in the air.

 

In the meanwhile, Pansy faded into a corner lest she got caught in the crossfire that was sure to erupt. Having grown up around the Bulstrodes and Flints for the greater part of her life, she knew how explosive their fights could get. Marcus had been the one to teach Millie that horrible headlock thing she used to do at school, after all. And Pansy only heard of Katie’s temper; apparently, her foul mouth could put a blush on Marcus’ cheeks.

 

Katie scoffed as she looked Marcus up and down. “I’m not a whimpering house elf you can order around, Flint. You have ten seconds to leave before I hex your balls off and serve them to you with a side of cream. Or, you can go and sit in a corner like a good boy and shut your gob until I say you can talk again.”

 

“Don't start with me witch. I need to discuss this with her. She’s my responsibility-”

 

“Ten seconds, starting now. Nine, eight, what’s it going to be? Seven…” Katie drew her wand, pointing it at his groyne.

 

To Millicent’s surprise, and Pansy’s disappointment, Marcus quickly relented and walked to the far end of the room, covering his crotch with his hands. A silent battle ensued between him and Katie for few minutes. The only sound in the room came from the hustle and bustle in the corridors behind the closed door. Katie won the battle when Marcus turned his back to the women with a huff.

 

Pansy came to sit next to the bed again. She grabbed Millicent’s hand, smiling a thin smile, which Millicent found quite unnerving. She didn’t like it when others knew something she didn't, especially when it was abundantly clear that it concerned her. The last image she’d seen before passing out came to mind. Had they found out somehow?

 

“What’s going?”

 

Katie sat down next to her on the bed and took her other hand. “Do you remember what happened at the Ditzy earlier?”

 

“I fell down on my way to the loo,” Millicent mumbled in embarrassment. The rest of the restaurant must have had a great show. She could practically hear the ‘fat witch falling’ jokes.

 

“So, uhm, have you been sick lately? Maybe, uhm, a bit nauseous?”

 

“Yeah, a bit.”

 

Katie nodded knowingly. “For how long?”

 

“I dunno,” Millicent mumbled shrugging. Days, weeks, she couldn't be sure.

 

Katie cleared her throat and opened and shut her mouth a few times before the question she wanted to ask finally made a way out. “Say, uhm- I’m sorry, but I have to ask. When was the last time Aunt Flo came for a visit?”

 

“Wot?”

 

“Your monthlies,” Pansy offered. “You know, that time of the month? When was the last time you were on the rag-”

 

“Oh, shut up! I know what she meant.” Millicent wasn’t sure who was more uncomfortable; herself for being asked, Katie for asking, or Marcus for hearing this. She wanted to take exception to the inquiry and tell Katie and Pansy to sod off. But the truth was, the question was one she had to think about before answering. Counting and recounting in her head, she concluded that she had missed the last one or two, maybe three even. Being out of it lately, she couldn’t be sure. “What’s it to you?”

 

Pansy and Katie briefly exchanged concerned looks before Pansy spoke up, “Have you been seeing someone? A boyfriend, I mean? A one-off, perhaps? You can tell us.”

 

Millicent lowered her eyes to her hands, hoping that it would make the lying easier. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“You’re up the duff!” Marcus growled from the back of the room and resumed his pacing again. “And I for one, would like to know who’s done it. I’ll kill the bastard. No one defiles my cousin and gets away with it. When I get my hands on him-”

 

“Marcus, for the love of Gods,” Katie said with a sigh.

 

“What?”

 

“You blithering idiot. You don’t tell someone she’s pregnant like that. Shut your warbling and let us girls handle this!”

 

“It’s the truth. I’m not about to sugar-coat it. And I don't warble, thank you very much, that's your talent, love.”

 

Katie rubbed her face and took a few calming breaths. “It's that I've come too attached to that thick head of yours, but sometimes...”

 

Millicent tuned the arguing couple out as her mind tried to process what she was told. ‘Up the duff’ he said. ‘Pregnant’ she said. That could only mean one thing, right?

 

‘Please Merlin, let there be another meaning. There has to be another meaning.’ Of course, she knew better than that. Breathing became a lot more difficult as realisation turned into panic.

 

“Millie? Millie, calm down.” She couldn’t make out who said it or find the strength to focus. Their words played echoed in her head.

 

 ‘Up the duff.’

 

That didn’t happen to girls like her, only to others. Not her.

 

She was pregnant, as in having a baby pregnant.

 

Theodore Nott had ruined her once again.


	4. Chapter 4

“You look like shite mate.”

 

…

 

“Are you ignoring me? Very mature.”

 

“What do you want, Zabini?”

 

“Just checking up on you. We haven’t seen you in a while.”

 

“We?”

 

“Malfoy is worried as well.”

 

…

 

“What or who’s got your knickers in a knot?”

 

…

 

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”

 

“Fine. I ran into her in the atrium today and tried to talk to her. She just ran away as soon as she saw me. I don’t understand why I scare her so much. I’d rather have her angry than scared.”

 

“Are you talking about Bulstrode again? It’s been months, mate, let it go. She’s not worth your worry.”

 

“You’re the one who asked.”

 

…

 

“Just leave me alone, Zabini. I’ve work to do.”

 

“Fine. Drinks tonight?”

 

“No.”

 

“Tomorrow?”

 

“No.”

 

…

 

 “Bastard.”

 

…

 

“Takes one to know one.”

 

“Like I’ve said, very mature.” 

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

_Millicent leant against the door in her bedroom unsure of what to do next. Seeing Theo stand in the middle of her room felt wrong somehow. Respectable girls didn't take strangers back home. Then again, he wasn’t really a stranger, was he? That had to count for something._

_Quietly she walked over to her bed and sat down, immediately busying herself with plucking off the imaginary lint on the blanket to hide her nerves. This wasn’t right, was it? What was she doing? What if someone found out? What if Daphne were to find out?_

_“I can leave if you want?”_

_She looked up, torn between accepting his offer and jump his bones right then and there. The former option was winning ground to longer she stared at him. The gawky boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago, had turned into a handsome man. He was a perfect match for Daphne. So, why was he here then? Was this a joke to him? That had to be it._

_He needed to leave before she humiliated herself even more._

_That would have been the right answer to give, but instead, she shook her head._

_“Stay, please.”_

_“Good, I was hoping you’d say that.”_

_As he plopped down next to her, her anxiety and doubts soared. Having him so near, on her bed, was too overwhelming. Having him here was a terrible idea but at the same, having him here, in her room, excited her more than she’d ever admit aloud. What was wrong with her?_

_“Don’t be scared. I’d never hurt you. Just tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable.” He held her hand in his lap, lightly squeezing it as he smiled at her._

_Millicent nodded, his reassurance didn’t help her at all. She had no idea on what to expect "Yeah, sure."_

_He bent down and kissed her neck as he pushed her hair out the way. Slowly, not to scare her off, his hands moved to the front of her dress, squeezing her breast. Embarrassed by the strange noises, Millicent clasped her hand over her mouth when his touch elicited whimpers._

_Theo clacked his tongue at her reacting and pushed her hand down. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, love. Now, let’s get you comfortable. Stand up.”_

_Millicent did as she was told, her knees wobbly with anticipation. He stood up behind her and slowly undid the buttons on the back of her dress in silence. Now and then, his finger brushed over the skin he exposed. As soon as the last button left his finger, her dress slid to the ground, pooling around her ankles. Feeling exposed, she tried to cover herself with her arms._

_“I meant it when I said that you look beautiful tonight. Don’t hide from me.” He kissed her shoulder as he pulled her arms down. “I’m gonna ask you for the last time, Millie. Do you want me here? Do you want this?”_

_She bit her lips, her heart racing inside her chest. A no was already forming on her lips and still, she found herself saying yes._

_“Good girl,” Theo mumbled as he ran his hand over her sides, barely touching her skin. The tender touches made her shiver as goose bump appeared on her skin. Her breath hitched when he undid her bra and turned her to face him._

_“Fucking gorgeous.”_

_He guided her to sit back on the bed and knelt in front of her. His hands cupped her breasts, her nipples pebbling under his touch and gaze. When he took one in his mouth and sucked softly, Millicent couldn’t hold back a moan. As she had often done in her fantasies, she ran her hand through his hair while the other held him tightly by the shoulder._

_‘This isn’t right. Why does it feel so right?’_

_Slowly, he pushed her down on the bed as he trailed kisses down her belly to the waistband of her knickers. Millicent felt a bit embarrassed when he removed them and threw them aside. He ran his finger through the damp curls and the outlines of her folds._

_“You’re already wet for me,” he murmured as he slid a finger in, making her arch up. “You like that?”_

_Millicent lost the ability to talk or think coherently. Her only answer was to splay her legs and tilt her hips towards his hand, wanting to feel more of what he was doing. He grinned at her eagerness and sped up the movement of his finger as put more pressure on her clit with his thumb._

_Without breaking contact or slowing his pace, Theo hovered over her and leant in to whisper in her ear. “We’re gonna to have fun tonight. Are you ready?”_

_All she could do was to nod. She had been ready for him for years._

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

A heavily decorated Greengrass Manor seemed to be bursting out of its seams with guests gathered together to celebrate Daphne’s twenty-first birthday. As usual at parties, Millicent stood in a shadowy corner of the large ballroom, hiding from the familiar and not so familiar faces. She felt highly uncomfortable and longed to go home, change into her nighties and read a book or something. Anything but being here was all right with her.

 

But as it was, she couldn't.

 

She had made half-arsed attempts at declining, ignored the invitation for weeks, and went out of her way to avoid Daphne. But Daphne hadn't taken no for an answer and had ambushed her at work, refusing to leave before her invitation was accepted. Of course, Millicent couldn’t tell Daphne why she’d rather drown in a bowl of soup than come to her party without exposing herself for the slag she was.

 

There was another reason she was here tonight, stowed in a corner because she was too afraid that she might run into Theo. Pansy was getting more suspicious as the days passed. Even if her friend hadn’t directly asked who got her up the duff, Millicent’s avoidance of some people was getting too obvious. Pansy kept throwing her suspicious glances of lately, always looked like she was about to ask something. So, here she was, once again counting down the seconds until she could go home without offending anyone and keep her secret safe.

 

The New Mother’s Handbook had taught her concealment charms to keep up the illusion until she was ready to tell people about her ‘condition’. The midwife had been understanding of her situation and had assured that it was safe to use the charms up until the sixth month, as long she used the charms in moderation, which wasn’t a problem at all. Millicent only used them on the days that interaction with her colleagues was unavoidable or on occasions like these. Fortunately, both things were a rarity these days.

 

At almost four and a half months pregnant, she was already showing. The slight curve of her belly was unmistakeable. Each morning and evening, she stood before her mirror to take in the changes to her body. For once, she wasn’t just fat. She was an expecting mother, growing round with her child.

 

It was…strange.

 

Accepting the child hadn’t been easy in the beginning, and she still had her bouts of doubt. For the first weeks after learning that she was pregnant, she had cried non-stop and had begged Pansy and Katie to help her get rid of the problem. But even if they had wanted to help, the ingredients for the necessary potion were highly illegal and regulated; only Healers could order them from the Ministry.

 

At St. Mungo’s, the Healers had refused to prescribe the potion without the father’s consent. With the birth-rate at an all-time low in the wizarding world, the Ministry had introduced stricter rules and guidelines for such procedures. All in the name of preserving each precious magical life, of course. Never mind putting witches in problematic situations. Asking Theo for consent hadn’t been an option, and she had no other choice left than to accept her fate.

 

A month ago, things had become a lot easier when Katie and Pansy had dragged her to a midwife for a check-up and scan. Seeing the image of the slug-like thing hovering above her stomach, hearing the impossible rapid heartbeat had been a turning point for her. Never had she felt an instant love like that. No matter how her child came to be, he was hers. Thankfully, she had a few more months to get used to that idea and come up with an explanation to give to her Auntie Sally. And hopefully, her aunt wouldn’t mind informing her father in Azkaban.

 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Millicent’s pregnancy had taken a toll on her relation with her cousin. Marcus rarely Floo-called or visited her anymore and when he did, usually under pressure from Katie, he rarely spoke more than a few words, mostly yes or no. He was furious with her for not telling who the father and robbing him of the chance of hunting the bastard down. Usually, Katie’s reminder of why they’d had to marry with four wands pressed in their backs helped to shut him up whenever he got too unbearable.

 

“Missy wanting one?”

 

The high-pitched voice interrupted Millicent’s musings. An elf held up a tray with salmon puffs. "No, thank you."

 

The sudden rush of nausea that came over her, caused by the look and faint smell of the snacks, didn’t surprise Millicent anymore. It had become a routine of some sorts. Multiple times a day she’d take a trip to the loo to empty her stomach. Or just retch, if her stomach was already empty. Quickly and without drawing attention to herself, she made her way to the toilets, signalling to Pansy where she was going. Her friend gave her a slight nod in understanding as she continued her conversation with Tracey Davis.

 

After finishing her business, Millicent took her time to return to the party. She appreciated the cool and quiet halls of the manor as she walked back to the crowded ballroom. Her stomach was still unsettled, and she hoped Pansy would not mind if she called it a night. It wasn't as if someone would miss her; no one had noticed her dwelling in the corner all evening. Not even Daphne.

 

Deciding to leave a message with a house elf and go home, she turned to collect her cloak. The idea of finally ending this torturous evening made her skip her steps in glee. Her clothes were too tight, and she longed to take them off and put her feet up. Katie’d given her name-book last week, and she planned on reading through it. Even if she had a few more months left, coming up with a name proved to be difficult. It needed to be strong and perfect, one that would honour and fit with the Bulstrode name.

 

Her happy train of thought was brutally interrupted when a cold hand pulled her aside and pushed her up against the wall. Pale green eyes locked with her brown ones and for a moment, she couldn’t help but get lost in them. Then she remembered who they belonged to and she found her way back to reality again.

 

“Can we talk?” Theo asked softly. He looked troubled, unshaven and tired.

 

“There’s nothing to say. Now, let me go, you git. You’re hurting my arm.” Millicent hated how her voice trembled, how her fear showed in it despite her strong words.

 

He dropped her arm immediately and mumbled an apology. But he didn’t move and to her great frustration, blocked her escape route. She tried to push him away, to no avail.

 

“You’re not going anywhere, Millie. We need to talk.”

 

“Don’t worry; I haven’t told anyone. Now, get out of my way!” Tears of anger, fear, and frustration stung her eyes. She needed him to stay away from her. He had ruined every fantasy she had about him, but mostly, he’d destroyed their friendship. What else did he want, wasn’t it enough already?

 

“Millie…” his face was suddenly very close, his forehead resting on hers. “I’m sorry for…that morning. I’ve said things that I shouldn’t have. It was… I was...”

 

Millicent didn’t let him finish.

 

“You hurt me,” she whispered harshly, “You took something from me without my permission. It took me weeks to feel clean again. Why would you do that to me?”

 

She couldn’t understand the confusion etched on his face as he stepped away. His confusion turned into anger, scaring her.

 

“Is that what you think?” he hissed, “I know that I wasn’t nice the next morning, but I… Do you honestly believe that's what happened? That I would do such a thing to you?”

 

“You hurt me,” she whispered again and tried to push him away, it was getting harder to breathe. She just wanted to go home before she broke down completely.

 

“Millie…”

 

Voices further down the hall distracted him for a second and Millicent took advantage of this to get away from him. This time, he didn’t stop her. As fast as her body allowed her, she rushed to the visitors’ Floo-connection, almost knocking over an older gentleman. Without looking up to see who it was, she mumbled an apology and fled away.

 

She cried herself asleep that night, the sudden rush of new memories and the consequent shame that washed over her were harder to handle than seeing Theo again.  


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you getting any sleep? You look horrible. I have a potion if you like…”

 

 “I don’t trust you or your potions. No offence.”

 

 “None taken. Still, you should go home and sleep the day away.

 

…

 

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“Just came to see my friend.”

 

…

 

“Theo?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

…

 

“That time with Bulstrode?”

 

“What about it?”

 

…

 

“Just spill it, Zabini.”

 

“Did you use a contraceptive charm?”

 

“What’s it to you?”

 

“I was in the archives last week. Did you know she works down there now? Now, that's a career killer, if you ask me.”

 

 …

 

“No, but that explains a lot…”

 

 “What?”

 

“None of your business. What has her working in the archives to do with your very nosy question?”

 

 …

 

“It looks like she’s put on some weight.”

 

…

 

“Are you serious? Did you come here to joke about her weight? Don’t you have better things to do? Like growing up or something?”

 

“Sweet Salazar, Nott, try to listen first before you bite my head off, yeah? What I meant was that she put on the kind of weight that accumulates around the stomach. Makes it big and round?”

 

…

 

“Theo? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

 

…

 

“Theo? Seriously, are you alright?

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 

“Yeah, I thought so.” 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

_His naked body stretched of her hers, kissing her furiously. He had one hand in her hair while the other stroked her wet folds, two fingers deep inside her. The friction and the little pressure he put on her clit now and then, made her arch up and press her belly against his erection. He had been teasing and caressing her for a while now, and she was about to explode._

_Slowly, he inserted a third finger, the strange sensation of being stretched was almost too much to bear. His name escaped her lips as he started pumping faster. She could feel his lips curl up into a smile against her mouth._

_“You like it? I do. Especially, when you call out my name like that. I can’t wait until I’m inside of you.”_

_A hoarse cry was her response when her orgasm washed over her, leaving her whole body boneless in the aftermath. She broke away from his demanding lips to catch her breath and turned her head to the side, allowing him to trails soft kissed down her throat to her breasts. She wasn’t sure on how much more she could take; every inch of her body was on fire. The slightest touch could set her off again._

_The moment he took a nipple into his mouth, her already overloaded senses went on high alert again. His relentless pumping never stopped, and before she knew it, another orgasm started building up deep in her belly, making her chant his name in bliss._

_Suddenly, he removed his fingers, leaving her disappointed at the loss of contact. She liked what he was doing too much for it to end. The apprehension she had earlier was nowhere in sight. She wanted more, feel everything he had to offer her. She wanted his cock inside her._

_“Are you ready for me?” he asked as he nudged her legs wider apart, “I really want to fuck you now.”_

_The tip of his cock pressed against her folds, teasing her, making her wetter than she already was. How was she supposed to say no?_

_“Please,” she whispered._

_“This might hurt.” He leant down to kiss her hard, his tongue demanding entrance beyond her swollen lips. Just as she lost herself in the kiss, he thrust his hips forward, burying himself deep inside her as she let out a strangled cry, more out of surprise than pain._

_“You’ll get used to the feeling,” he whispered in her ear, “Tell me when you’re ready.”_

_As soon as Millicent nodded, he started with slow strokes, whispering sweet nothings between featherlight kisses he pressed on her throat. The more she relaxed and met his moves, the more his pace picked up. His deep, hard strokes were hard to keep up with, and it wasn’t long before the pressure started building up again. Her breathing picked up and in a bold move to have him closer to her, she wrapped her legs around his hips, clamping down as another wave washed over her. With another two strokes, he stilled, spilling his seed in hot waves and collapsed on top of her. His forehead rested on hers as he tried to regain control of his breathing._

_They lay there like that for a while before he pulled out his half flaccid cock and rolled off to pull her against his body._

_“Fuck, Millie. That was...I can...I want to do that again. Over and over again.”_

_She tried to repress the swarm of butterflies in her stomach at his words. The idea that this good-looking man was willing to share this with her was just too surreal. Had she gone mad? He belonged to Daphne, not her. She should send him away, feel ashamed of what just happened and Obliviate herself. Instead, she found herself saying,_

_“I want that too.”_

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

Feeling utterly satisfied, Millicent took a step back to admire her handy work. It had taken her a few months, but she had finally managed to organise the mess that was the first floor of the Ministry archive. It would take at least another year and a half before the other four were ready. But as it was, she had nothing but time on her hands. Being holed up without anyone bothering her had brought up her productive side. She rarely saw someone down here, aside from that annoying Zabini last week, and she was quite happy about that.

 

She hadn’t seen any of her direct colleagues in months. The only one regularly checking up on her was her supervisor, Mrs Norton. The older woman had been surprisingly kind to Millicent after learning about her pregnancy. The woman hadn't judged or asked questions, merely told her to not to overdo it. Yesterday, she had even brought a knitted pair of socks for the baby.

 

A smile appeared on Millicent’s face, her baby. A boy, as she had learnt a few weeks ago. She knew she should have got used to it already with being six months pregnant, but the idea of another human being growing still felt alien at times, especially since the little tyke had started moving around in there. But it was a good kind of strange; she wouldn’t change it for the world.

 

A sharp kick brought her back from her reveries, and she rubbed the spot where her son had kicked. The baby was quite active today, probably protesting the strain she had put on her body. Because of her pregnancy, Millicent’s magic had been out of control lately. More than once, her spells had come out wrong and blew up something or were stronger than usual. Afraid of damaging something or hurting someone, she rarely used her wand these days, forcing herself to do the mundane things, like carrying boxes, manually. She hadn’t told anyone of it. If she had, they probably would have demanded her to stay home, and as far as Millicent was concerned, that was not an option.

 

To give her body a rest, she sat down by her desk to have an early lunch and read the Prophet. Too engrossed in her newspaper and nibbling an apple, she didn’t hear the door open or see the man locking it behind him. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that she looked up. It took her a few seconds to find her voice to answer him, all the while her son kicked up a storm inside her.

 

“Mister Nott,” she acknowledged eventually, proud of her even voice, “How can I help you?”

 

Theo just frowned. He looked worse than the last time their paths had crossed. “I… I came to see you. We need to talk.”

 

“If you need help with organising your department, please contact Missus Norton. She’ll gladly…”

 

“Dammit, Millicent!” He interrupted her and rubbed the stubble on his jaw in frustration. Millicent noticed his bloodied knuckles and wondered what happened to him.

 

“Stand up,” Theo asked impatiently. Seeing her hesitate, he repeated his demand, "Stand up, now!"

 

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are? Coming in here-” before she could finish what she was saying, Theo walked around her desk and pulled her from her chair. He ignored her outraged protests and dodged her attempts to slap him.

 

“Open your robes.”

 

“Sod off, Nott,” Millicent replied more confident than she felt and managed to pry his hand off her arm. Damn Zabini, couldn’t keep his mouth shut. That gossipmonger had to go and tell everyone what he had seen last week. She should have hexed him on the spot.

 

“Now!” Theo roared, his hands clenched into fists.

 

Caught off guard by the rise in his voice and realising that she wouldn't be able to get away easily, she slowly shrugged her work robes off. Underneath, she wore one of her old dresses. Katie had transfigured it to the maximum to accommodate Millicent's ever growing body. It was still too tight on her, though, hugging each and every curve and exposing her very round belly. Her vault contents were running low with everything she needed to buy before her son’s arrival. She had refused help from Marcus but knew he transferred money to her each month. She vowed not to touch it as long as she could manage on her own. Transfiguring her clothes helped with that.

 

“It’s true,” Theo whispered in shock as he put a hand on the bulge. He didn’t see Millicent flinch at his touch; his attention was solely directed at the extreme activity underneath his palm. So much activity, in fact, it made Millicent wince in discomfort.

 

Finally, Millicent stepped away when a new rush of memories washed over her, and she slumped down in her chair. Her throat constricted at the images flashing before her eyes, and she was sure that she was going mad.

 

“What do you want, Nott?” she muttered in a strangled voice.

 

“Why have you kept it?” he demanded to know.

 

“I didn’t have much choice, did I? The Healers wouldn’t help me unless the father signed the papers.”

 

“You could have asked me for it.”

 

“No, I couldn’t.” Millicent could only imagine that conversation.

 

“Millie,” Theo groaned.

 

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that. We’re not friends. Not anymore. I’m Bulstrode to you, and you’re Nott to me. Now, what do you want?”

 

Theo didn’t answer or look at her. Instead, his gaze was fixed on her belly. The shock was still evident on his face. For a minute, she felt sorry for him, knowing how it felt. It had been a kick in the gut for her as well. Then she remembered the morning she woke up after a night she still couldn’t recall entirely and didn’t feel sorry at all.

 

“You should leave now. I have work to do.” Millicent turned her back and started rearranging the parchments on her desk, praying that he would leave her alone. It wasn’t until she heard the door open and close that she let out a sigh of relief, confident he would leave her alone from now on.

 

She was wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

“You look like shite, mate.”

 

 …

 

 “Theo?”

 

…

 

“Theo!”

 

“Blaise? What do you want?”

 

“Daphne’s owled me. She says that she can’t reach you. You were supposed to have dinner with her and her parents tonight. To go over the wedding plans?”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“What’s wrong with you, mate?”

 

…

 

“That potion you gave me…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What does it do?”

 

…

 

“Well?”

 

“Why do you want to know?”

 

“Just answer the sodding question!”

 

…

 

“I’m still waiting.”

 

“Like I said before, it makes them agreeable.”

 

“How?”

 

…

 

“Don’t make me hurt you, Zabini.”

 

“Fine. It liberates the feelings someone already has, releases inhibitions. So, if a girl likes me, but is afraid to approach me, the potion would ease her fears. Like with Bulstrode for instance, she's fancied you ever since our first year at Hogwarts-”

 

“No, that’s not true.”

 

“Are you blind? Yes, you must be. Now, let me finish. Where was I? Oh yes, a girl like Bulstrode. But she's never said anything. When you gave her that potion, she went with you willingly because she wanted to all along. It wouldn’t have worked if she hadn't wanted it in the first place.”

 

…

 

“Why did I need it?”

 

“A few drops relaxes a person. And helps, with, uhm, you know, to get it up. I reckoned you could use a drop or two. Her being her and all.”

 

…

 

“Hey, don’t point that at me!”

 

…

 

“What are the side effects?”

 

“Put down your wand first.”

 

…

 

“Fine. These days, the old Pureblood families in Italy use the potion. It's supposed to ease the wedding night jitters for the prudish brides. Seriously, mate, put your wand down.”

 

“Go on.”

 

“Uhm, yeah… An unfortunate side effect can be that the chit in question memories get a bit jumbled, to make them forget the pain or some shite like that. They’re usually scared and confused. When that happens, you’re supposed to jog the memory and assure them that whatever happened was because you were both willing, not because you forced them. You know, the sappy nonsense girls like to hear. Makes them happy wives and whatnot.”

 

“And you didn’t think that piece of information would have been useful to know?”

 

“Why? It is just Bulstrode. Who cares about her?”

 

…

 

“You should leave now.”

 

“Mate…”

 

“Leave! Now!”

 

“Fine. Don’t forget to owl Daphne.” 

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

_“Stay with me,” she whispered as she rested her head on his chest._

_‘Pick me. Stay with me forever,’ she wanted to stay._

_He didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She knew he wouldn’t stay, not when he had a fiancée to return to; a woman more beautiful than her, one worth spending one’s life with. And she was just Millicent. The fat girl from the wrong family._

_But that didn’t matter tonight, for now, she was happy to lie with him. For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful and desirable. Finally, she was worth someone’s affection and wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted. She’d deal with the rest in the morning. For now, she was in the arms of the man that had captured her heart from the moment she had met him. That was all that mattered._

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

“Oh my, it’s true…”

 

“What did you expect of someone from that family? I hear her cousin, that Quidditch player, wasn't any better. He got a barely legal schoolgirl in trouble.”

 

“Do you think she even knows who the father is?”

 

“Someone should complain to the Ministry about her behaviour…”

 

Millicent tried hard to ignore the not so discrete whispers while the seamstress at Madam Malkin’s took her measurements. The gossip had been inevitable after her decision to eat her lunch in the Ministry canteen earlier this week. It wasn’t safe to use the concealing charms any longer, and no matter how much she wanted it, she couldn’t hide forever.

 

According to Pansy that is.

 

It had sounded so sensible when Pansy had mentioned that it would be hard to explain how she got a baby out of the blue. That had led to a discussion about getting the tricky part over with as soon as possible, and after seeking reinforcement from Katie, the two women had convinced Millicent to get it out into the open. Or rather, badgered her into it. Unfortunately, they hadn’t considered the vicious gossip and Rita Skeeter. One of her fine colleagues had tipped off the infuriating woman.

 

The thrice damned excuse for a reporter had deemed the story of the unwed daughter of an Azkaban convict having a baby out of wedlock front page news. And being the cousin of a Quidditch star had also helped, of course. The most ludicrous stories had been printed already; from how she tried to trap one of Marcus’ teammates into marriage to how she had rented out her body to other Pureblood families who couldn’t have their own child. It would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that people were starting to believe what the Prophet was printing about her. So, instead of getting out more since revealing her secret, she was back into hiding again.

 

Millicent wouldn’t have gone out in public today if it hadn’t been necessary. But, yesterday she had torn out of her last transfigured clothes, leaving her with no other choice than to buy new ones.

 

"Has she no shame…?”

 

She quickly wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks, silently blaming her raging hormones for making her weepy. She blamed Theo for it. Ever since his visit two weeks ago, and the new memories that had popped out of nowhere, she’d been overly emotional as it was, and the women’s words only added to her distress. Still, no matter how many times she told herself that words couldn't hurt her, a choked sob escaped her when the gossip turned to her unborn son and dead mother. The seamstress gave an apologetic smile and averted her eyes.

 

“You’re done, Miss. Just pick your colours and fabrics, and we'll make sure that your dresses are ready at the end of the day.”

 

Millicent nodded and tried to engross herself in the sample book that was shoved her way, trying to tune out the others as she felt their eyes on her.

 

“…daughter of a criminal, after all…”

 

“…men pay her…”

 

"... her whole family is rotten..."

 

The gossip only grew louder around her; they weren’t even trying to be subtle anymore. It took most of her willpower not to turn around and tell the lot of them to sod off as she sent hexes flying their way. Luckily for the women, her wand was with Ollivanders because she had managed to blow it up yesterday while trying to repair her torn dress.

 

The women fell silent for a minute when someone entered the shop. But as soon as the door closed, their chatter started again.

 

“…opens her legs for…”

 

“…banish her to Knockturn Alley…”

 

“…should take away that poor child from her…”

 

She hadn’t noticed she was crying until fat drops fell on the pages in front of her. After quickly giving her order to the seamstress in a smothered voice, Millicent turned around to leave her toxic surrounding before she'd do something she'd regret later. As soon as she did, she bumped into someone.

 

The last person she wanted to see. The only person she needed right now.

 

“Let’s get you out of here,” Theo murmured and took her hand.

 

Millicent could only nod as she started to sob. His gentleness was too much after the cruel words. He led her out the shop, and as she passed the women with downcast eyes, she could feel their glares. This was going to result in another round of gossip; she was sure of it. Out of panic, she tried to let go of his hand.

 

“Theo…” she whimpered, hating how she sounded, hated what she was reduced to.

 

He didn’t let go and only held on firmer, glowering at anyone who dared to say something.

 

“I’m going to take you home now,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. As soon as they were on the street, he pulled her close to his body and Apparated them away.

 

The push and pull of Apparition was too much for her body to handle and as soon as they landed in her bedroom, Millicent ran to the loo to empty her stomach. It took a few minutes for the painful retching to stop. After a cold rinse of her mouth and face, Millicent studied herself in the mirror. Sad, red-rimmed eyes looked back. Her round cheeks were flushed from the strain of Apparition and vomiting, and tendrils of her black hair were stuck to her sweaty forehead. The harsh words from earlier came flooding back in, and before she knew, she was crying again. Loud, gut-wrenching sobs escaped her as she crumbled to the tiled floor. She hated this, hated herself and hated those women for their gossip. This wasn’t how her life was supposed to be; this wasn’t her.

 

Strong arms encircled her and pulled her up, guiding her back to her bedroom. She broke down in Theo’s arms as he helped her to bed and laid down beside her, holding her tightly and whispering words of reassurance in her ear.

 

The way he held her, kissed the top her head, brought back all the memories of that night. The ones she’d remembered and ones that were new to her. It only made her cry harder. She couldn’t forgive herself for giving in that night; she didn’t understand how she’d become that kind of woman that would prey on her friend’s future husband.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

 

They lay there like that until Millicent eventually fell asleep, her cheeks still wet with tears.


	7. Chapter 7

 

“Have you seen Theo lately?”

 

“No, don’t care to either.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“That arsehole broke my nose.”

 

“Theo? He did that? Why?”

 

…

 

 “What did you do, Blaise?”

 

“What makes you think I did something?”

 

“Because Theo wouldn’t do something like that without reason.”

 

…

 

“Well?”

 

“Shove off, Malfoy.”

 

…

 

“It’s because of Bulstrode and the potion I gave him that night.”

 

“After all these months? Oh! The rumours are true, then?”

 

“That depends… What rumours are you talking about?”

 

“The one where she’s up the duff.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

…

 

“Why would he break your nose for that?”

 

“I might have left out a few details about the potion.”

 

“What details?”

 

…

 

“You are an arse, Zabini.”

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

_She pushed her soft round arse against his hard cock in her sleep. His hand cupped one of her heavy breasts as he trailed kisses down her neck. She didn’t wake up, just sighed contently. The sound alone made him want to pound into her again. It took all his restraint not to do that. His hand trailed further below, to that hot, slick spot between her legs. He knew that he should let her rest and recover, but her soft body was too inviting to be left alone._

_She was wet again, even in her sleep. A soft flick against that sensitive nub enticed moan out of her, a loud one. He ran his fingers over her folds, spreading her wetness. Without thinking, he plunged two fingers into her, pumping in and out, and he couldn’t help but grin as her breath hitched at the sensation. She turned to lie flat on her back, and he immediately missed the feel of her soft body against his._

_Her dark eyes stared up at him, the lust visible in them. She wanted this, desired everything he could give her. Do to her body. He was on top of her in the blink of an eye, biting and sucking her lips. Her breasts pressed against him, her wetness slicking his cock as tried to dip into her. A slight tilt from her hips and he was in her again. Deep, deep inside her. Her warmth and tightness enveloped his cock like a glove. He didn’t move for a while, just enjoyed the sensation of being in there as her walls convulsed around his cock, trying to milk him._

_“Fuck, Millie.”_

_“I believe, you’re already doing that,” she giggled before she shyly looked away._

_“Getting cheeky, aren’t we? You’ll need some punishment for that.”_

_He pulled out of her and slapped her thigh. “Turn around, on all fours. Yeah, like that.”_

_As soon as she was in the right position, he plunged right back into her. The change of position allowed him to push deeper. It took him a few pumps to realise that this wasn’t what he wanted; he needed to feel her against his body. Without losing contact, he pulled her up into his lap. With her back pressed against him, his one hand played with one of her breasts as the other stimulated her clit as he kept rocking in and out of her. She turned her head, giving him access to her mouth. He would like to fuck that mouth one day, see her lips wrapped around his cock._

_He could feel that he wouldn’t last much longer and wanted to try another position before he came. He lowered her on the bed until her chest was flat on the mattress and lifted her arse high in the air. The sight of her round pale arse and her wet folds glistening in the moonlight made him almost cum on the spot. One day he was going to lap up each drop she had to offer. Dammit, he wasn’t going to last if he kept daydreaming like a schoolboy._

_Firmly holding her hips, he concentrated on the moment and drove into her. The sensation of her tight cunt clenching around him, her loud moans as he moved inside her and the way she fisted the sheets made him come so hard that he saw stars when he finally collapsed on top of her._

_“Millie, Millie, Millie,” he panted, “You’re going to be the death of me.”_

_Later, as she lay asleep on his chest, he watched her. Even in her sleep, there was a contented smile on her lips. For the first time that night he felt guilt for using her like this. For using a potion to make her do this. Would she have done it otherwise? Would she regret it come morning? He didn’t want her to; he wanted to do this and more, every day with her. He wanted to find out who Millicent was. Even if he knew her, he realised that he barely knew anything about her._

_He never paid much attention to her, never saw her as a girl or the woman she’d become. Millicent was always there when you needed a chat or help with your work. She was Daphne’s friend who always tagged along, always a silent presence in the background._

_Daphne! Fuck._

_As Millicent curled up against him, he realised that this was a onetime occurrence. He couldn’t be with her, never get a chance to know her better. Within a year, he would be a married man. Contracts were signed and promises made. There was no way out for him; he was a man of his word._

_Looking at Millicent, he realised he never felt anything for Daphne to the degree he had felt with just one night with her. Merlin, in the four years he had been with Daphne, he only managed a chaste kiss on the lips and held her hand when she was in the mood. Other than being in the same house while at school, they had nothing in common. He doubted if Daphne actually liked him, at all._

_Millicent on the other hand, made him laugh with her bluntness, her big mouth and sarcasm. Her full and curvy body made him want to be with and inside her and hold her all night. He wanted her._

_As the sun rose, he made his decision. Carefully not to wake her, he stepped slid out the bed and got dressed. Instead of leaving right away, as he had planned at the beginning of the evening, he sat in the rocking chair in the corner and eagerly waited for her to wake up._

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

Theo watched her sleep in his arms. Her cheeks were flushed and tearstained. With her protruding belly pressed against his body, he could feel the movements inside. He placed his hand gently on the bulge to feel and was immediately rewarded with another kick, much harder than the last time. He couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped him. It was just too surreal.

 

“You bring out the worst in him,” Millicent grumbled sleepily. Theo pulled his hand away, not sure how she would react to him touching her like this.

 

“Him? How so?”

 

“Yeah, him. Last time, at the Ministry, it took him all day to calm down after you left. And now, with you this close, it feels like he’s doing the waltz in there again.”

 

Theo had to grin at that and put his hand back to feel his son. A son.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered gravely, “For getting me out of there.”

 

Theo didn’t say anything and kept his eyes fixed on his hand that rested on her belly. It had been sheer luck that he’d been in Diagon Alley that morning. He was supposed to meet with his father and Mr Greengrass to discuss the final draft of the marriage contract. The Ministry had sent it back with the remark that there was something wrong with it. Whatever it was, it had put his father in a foul mood judging by his summons earlier that morning.

 

If it hadn’t been for the two women walking before him and talking about ‘that terrible Bulstrode girl at the dressmakers’, he wouldn’t have known Millie had been at Madam Malkin’s. Without thinking about the meeting with his father, he had walked straight over to the dress shop and seen her crying through the shop window, a sight that had fuelled his guilt and anger. He had read the terrible things printed about her in the Prophet. His cowardice had held him back from making a statement, claiming the child as his. This afternoon’s action, though, leading her out of there, would be enough to start another round of gossip, he hoped. He didn’t care anymore; the whole world could know that this was his son she was carrying.

 

His hand found its way to her face. He wanted to kiss her, just to see if it felt the same as that night. To assure himself that it hadn’t been the potion. Before he could talk himself out of it, he captured her lips with his. When she didn’t respond, he pulled back in disappointment. Maybe, it had been the potion all along, and he had imagined the whole thing. It was to be expected, how could he have thought otherwise? But suddenly, her lips were on his and her hands in his hair, kissing him fiercely.

 

Although he knew that he shouldn’t, he tugged at her clothes. Wanting them, needing them to come off. He needed to see her, feel her, reassure himself that it hadn’t been the potion all those months ago. And once again, she was naked next to him. He took his time studying her and tracing each curve with his finger, drank in the sight of her. When she tried to cover herself with her arms, he gently pushed them away; she wasn’t going to hide from him anymore.

 

There were faint pink stretchmarks on the sides her belly. A sign that his son was growing inside her, that this was real. Theo lowered his head to kiss the marks, to show his gratitude to her, to apologise for breaking her trust.

 

 “Theo…”

 

At the call of his name, he kissed his way up her body until he reached her lips again as his hand worked its way down. Like that first night, he took his time to get her ready for him, stroking and teasing her. Her content sigh against his mouth and her response to his touches were enough for him to know that it hadn’t just been the potion that night. He wanted to kick himself for not staying with her that morning, for mocking her.

 

Her soft moans when she came was like music to his ears, and suddenly he couldn’t wait to be inside of her, feel her wrapped around his cock again. When she was ready for him, he entered her. It felt like a homecoming; he was right where he was supposed to be.

 

Later, their panting was the only sound in the room for a long time. While they had so much to talk about, neither of them felt the need to say anything. Theo pulled the covers over them when he noticed the goose bumps on her arms. Not caring for cleaning themselves up, they fell asleep with Theo’s hand protectively covering her belly.

 

Maybe he shouldn’t tell her about the potion. What good would it do?

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

“Millicent? Millie? Are you in there?”

 

Theo awoke immediately and pulled a sleeping Millicent closer. Another small kick under his palm made him smile.

 

The door opened slowly, and a brunette peeked around the corner. He vaguely remembered her as being Flint’s wife: the Gryffindor Chaser who had been a year ahead of him at Hogwarts. When she noticed them in bed, her eyes went as wide as saucers. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything and nodded before she softly closed the door again.

 

“She’s asleep, Marcus. Let her rest a bit,” Theo heard her say on the other side of the door. “For fuck's sake, man. She’s asleep, let her be.”

 

Theo heard them argue as they moved around in the flat and although he wasn’t that afraid of Flint, he still reached for his wand on the bedside cupboard. It was better to be safe than sorry since the man was a beast.

 

“Marcus, no!”

 

Without thinking, Theo cast a shielding charm and made sure the blankets covered them completely. Seconds later the door swung open.

 

“Millie, we need to-” Flint froze as he noticed his cousin wasn't alone. The shock on his face slowly transformed into anger.

 

Theo could swear he heard the man growl.

 

“What’s going on?” Millicent mumbled sleepily, as she pushed her bum innocently into Theo’s crotch. Despite the severity of the situation they were in, he could feel himself harden. That was not good. At all.

 

“Flint,” Theo muttered with a curt nod. He wasn’t sure if he was informing Millicent or greeting Marcus.

 

“Shit,” was all Millicent said and hid underneath the covers.

 

Life was unfair, Theo realised. The way Flint was staring at him, as his wife still tried to pull him away from the door, Theo guessed he wouldn’t live long enough to meet his son. No, not a chance, not now that Flint seemed to unfreeze.

 

“You two, get dressed and be in the living in two minutes. No, wait. One minute.” And with that Marcus turned on his heels and left the room.

 

Something broke in one of the others rooms and Theo heard feminine voices telling Flint to calm down. Great, Pansy was here too.

 

“He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?”

 

“Yeah, probably.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Theodore.”

 

“Alistair.”

 

“Have you heard anything from that son of yours?”

 

“No.”

 

“This is unacceptable, Theodore.”

 

“What do you want me to say?”

 

“How am I supposed to explain this to my daughter? She went shopping for her trousseau yesterday!”

 

“I’m sure you’ve explained the contract to her before she signed. She knows of the clauses and what happens when one of them is activated.”

 

“They weren’t supposed to be activated in the first place. That bastard should have kept his trousers on.”

 

“It would do you good not to talk about my son in such way. Old friend or not, I will not accept that.”

 

…

 

“It is an unfortunate situation, Alistair; I’m aware of that. But let’s not jump to conclusions until we’ve spoken to Theo. For all we know, he isn’t aware of the situation.”

 

…

 

“How much worse can the situation get, you reckon?”

 

“If it’s still early enough, certain measures can be taken. If both are willing, of course.”

 

“And what if they’re not?”

 

“Then, my dear friend, the contract will be dissolved. We cannot have the next heir to the Nott line born a bastard.”

 

…

 

“It could be the Bulstrode girl.”

 

“Yes, that’s a possibility.”

 

“That doesn’t bother you?”

 

“The situation bothers me. I have nothing against the girl. Pierce and Lucille have raised her properly enough.”

 

“Well, if the rumours are true, they must have gone wrong somewhere. If this is your son’s doing, it will hurt my Daphne. That little harlot was supposed to be her friend.”

 

“Why are you quick to judge the girl? Whether it was my son or not, it still takes two to create a new life.”

 

…

 

“Do you think it is the Bulstrode girl, Theodore?”

 

“There’s no doubt in my mind.” 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

Daphne stared out the window of the Muggle restaurant she was at, just a few more minutes and he would be here; the love of her life since Hogwarts, the one that brought colour and excitement to her life.

 

He loved to discover new things, and venturing out to Muggle London was one of his latest hobbies. They had probably seen and done everything the city had to offer them. Although it could be tedious at times, she didn't mind to tag along; it was quite liberating to leave the wizarding world and its restriction behind for a day.

 

Frowning, she checked the watch he gave her again. Nearly five minutes late. Things had been strained between them lately; he was often agitated and refused to talk to her. It went even as far as that he’d cancelled the last few times they had made plans. Was he cancelling again or had he simply forgot? Daphne couldn’t decide what was worse.

 

Disappointment overtook her as it sunk in that all her planning and reservations probably had been in vain. Five minutes, he had five more minutes to get here. Daphne turned her attention to the busy street again and daydreamed about the better times between them. Their lives had been easy once, before they had been forced to grow up and become adults. That seemed so long ago. She could feel him slipping through her fingers and didn't know what to do about it, or even know how to voice her worries.

 

“Another tea, Miss?” the owner of the shop, a wrinkled old lady, asked.

 

Daphne shook her head with a soft smile. She was almost sure the woman was a Squib; she resembled the Rosier sisters too much for not to be one. And it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that a purebred Kneazle strode around a Muggle coffee shop.

 

“No, thank you. I’ll be on my way in a few minutes.”

 

“He’ll come, Miss, just give him some more time.”

 

She was still thinking about the woman’s words when the little bell above the door announced the arrival of another customer, but Daphne didn’t look up. She’d given up hope that he would come. Maybe, she should leave already and save herself heartbreak. Sitting here only made her feel worse about the whole situation.

 

“Daphne.”

 

Her head snapped up in disbelief. After she had assured herself that it really was him, her lips curled up into a broad grin. There he was, the man who owned her heart, body, and soul for years. An apologetic smile on his handsome face made up for his tardiness.

 

“I’m sorry I’m late. Something…came up.”

 

“Come, sit.”

 

He sat down across from her and grabbed her hand over the table top. It was evident by the way he looked everywhere but her, that he was nervous about something. Daphne’s heart sank; he was here to end things between them, she was sure of it. After six years, he had enough of her. Not wanting to look at him any longer, she fixed her gaze on the street again as tears burnt in her eyes.

 

“Daph… We need to talk.”

 

There it was; the words she dreaded to hear. The words that would change her life for the worst. All breakups started with those words.

 

“Please, look at me,” he pleaded, “This is important.”

 

Daphne willed herself to turn her eyes to him again. “Just get it over with.”

 

“We need to talk about Theo.” 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

The usually serenely quiet Nott Manor shook awake by the arrival of several witches and wizards falling out the fireplace. It was the scion of the Nott line that tumbled out first, sporting a black eye. Blood covered the front of his shirt as he pressed a handkerchief to his slightly crooked nose. He had the misfortune of becoming acquainted with Marcus' fist earlier. The seething man soon followed Theo. It took Marcus several seconds to find his footing before pointing his wand at Theo again and spewing out profanities.

 

Next to step out, rather gracefully compared to the two men before her, was Flint’s wife. Katie was yelling at her husband to calm down as tried to snatch his wand. Something she had done regularly since their wedding day. Her husband was rather hot headed and tended to curse first and ask questions later. Usually, she was successful in disarming him, but today Katie had no such luck. Marcus was just too angry.

 

After Katie, Pansy tumbled out. Her face lit up with excitement and anticipation of what was to come. Also, she couldn’t hide the little smugness she felt. Seeing Theo sneaking out Millie’s bedroom earlier had been the confirmation of her suspicions. If someone was capable of talking Millie out her knickers, it was him. And the cheating bastard had, obviously.

 

Marcus had gone mental, as expected. The only reason Theo was still alive was only due to the fact Millie had manoeuvred herself in front of him when Marcus had tried to find out if the Ministry kept trace of Unforgivables. Millicent's interference had not stopped him from punching Theo’s lights out, though.

 

A very pregnant Millicent stepped out as last, tired and ready to be sick. The whole day had been demanding on her, and all she wanted was to sleep. Beside her hurting back, her head had started pounding, and her stomach churned at the prospect of facing Mr Nott.

 

Then there was that other minor issue; in the time it took her to blink, the decision was made that there would be wedding soon. That had been the only point that Theo and Marcus agreed on without asking her opinion on the matter. But, at the rate Marcus was going, she had a better chance to visit him in Azkaban for murder than to set a wedding date.

 

She wished that Katie would shut Marcus up already. His yelling and cursing did nothing to ease her headache nor calmed her nerves about meeting Mr Nott. All she knew about the man was that he was a hard, conservative Pureblood who held the old values and standards in high regards. The man’s reaction would most probably be worse than that of the beldams at Madam Malkin’s.

 

“Stop it,” Katie snapped at her husband as she reached for his wand. “What’s done is done, leave the poor sod alone for a minute. And for the love of Circe, give me that thing.”

 

“Poor sod? Look what he's done to Millie,” Marcus growled as he pointed at his cousin, his eyes and wand still trained on Theo.

 

Millicent couldn’t find the strength to retort and merely sighed and shook her head. As an act of defiance, she moved closer to Theo and offered him a weak smile as an apology.

 

“What he has done? Seriously, have you forgotten how babies are made? Again? It takes two, in case you were wondering.”

 

“That’s not the point, and you know it. Millie was a good girl; he must have taken advantage of her. There isn’t another explanation for this mess.”

 

“Like you took advantage of me, you mean?” Katie crossed her arms and raised her brows. “I was a good girl before I ran into you, remember?”

 

"No, you weren't. Two drinks and you were ready to ride my-" A bright flash hit his shoulder, pushing him up against the wall. Grimacing, Marcus swallowed the rest of what he had wanted to say. "Yes, yes you were, love." 

 

Pansy giggled behind her hand; she loved to hear those two quarrelling and see Katie win each time. It also provided insight into the relationship of the oddest couple she knew. Katie ought to be rewarded an Order of the Merlin for putting up with Marcus. Then again, she was fairly sure that this was some sort of twisted foreplay for those two.

 

“Can we focus on the matter at hand?” Millicent sighed as she rubbed her temples. “Pansy, can you please fix up Theo before his father sees him?”

 

“No need, Miss Bulstrode.”

 

Nott Sr.’s deep voice made Millicent jump a little. In the consternation, his presence had gone unnoticed. She turned around slowly, ready to be scolded for a second time that day.

 

It was evident from who Theo got his looks. With the same thick and wavy hair, tall posture, and green eyes, he was a younger version of his old father. The older man oozed superiority and authority as he stood in the doorway watching the scene in front of him void of any emotion. Behind him, equally unimpressed, or as it seemed, stood Mr Greengrass. The presence of her friend’s father shocked Millicent. He was the last person she wanted to face today.

 

“Ladies, Mister Flint.” Nott Sr. bowed slightly, “If you will excuse my son for a minute? One of the elves will lead you to the parlour where you can wait for us. There is - how shall I put this?- a lot we need to discuss, I’m sure.”

 

Without waiting for a reply, the older man strode to his son and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck to lead him out the room. If the situation hadn’t been severe, Millicent would have laughed at the sight of Theo being dragged away by his father as if he were nothing more than an obstinate child.

 

Marcus was about to protest, demanding that they would punish Theo first and discuss the matter later, but a vicious kick to the back of his knee from Katie stopped him. For now, he would have to hope that Mr Greengrass and Mr Nott got few hexes in on his behalf.

 

As soon as the three men left the room, the hearth roared back to life with emerald flames and a petite blonde stepped out. The dark scowl on her face and the reddened cheeks didn't bode well.

 

Daphne Greengrass was angry, beyond furious, and that fury was directed at one person. “You conniving bitch,” she hissed as she pointed her wand at Millicent.


	9. Chapter 9

“Fix yourself, you look terrible. It’s Marcus' doing, isn't it? He's always been a rowdy boy.”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

...

 

“Do you fancy a drink? You look like you need one.”

 

“P-please.”

 

“Sweet Salazar, Nott! Stop coddling him. He isn’t ten anymore.”

 

“He is still my son, Alistair. I’ll treat him as I see fit.”

 

…

 

“Better?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“Care to explain that little show out there?”

 

…

 

“We’re still waiting, son.”

 

…

 

“How far along is Miss Bulstrode?”

 

“M-months, s-sir? Seven? I haven’t asked yet.”

 

“Is there a possibility the child is not yours?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“You bastard!”

 

“Calm down, Alistair. This is my home and my son you are talking to. Maybe, you should leave. We’ll discuss the termination of the contract in the morning. My son and I have other pressing matters to address.”

 

…

 

“Care to explain yourself, Theodore.”

 

“Not really, Father.”

 

“It wasn’t a request.”

 

“Father, I…”

 

“How did you persuade Miss Bulstrode to forgo all proprietary? She doesn’t suit me as a girl to get herself into trouble like this.”

 

“You’ll get angry with me. Lock away your wand first.”

 

“I don’t need my wand to hex you, son. Get on with it.”

 

“Dad, please?”

 

“Now, Theo!”

 

…

...

 

“And now we’re here.”

 

“I must say, I’m very disappointed in your behaviour. I would like to believe that I had raised you better than this.”

 

“I never intended any of it to happen, Father.”

 

“Well, it still has. You should have known better than to let your friends goad you into such despicable things. You have tainted the good name of a young woman and ours, and ruined a lifelong friendship with the Greengrass family. What about poor Daphne? What about Miss Bulstrode? She can have you tossed into Azkaban. I guess Mister Zabini forgot to tell you that those potions are illegal in Britain.”

 

“Father?”

 

…

 

“Why didn’t you speak up when we drew up the contracts?”

 

“We never knew that we had a choice in the matter, sir.”

 

…

 

“Father? Are you going to tell Millicent about the, ah, potion?”

 

…

 

“Father?”

 

“No. What good would it do? If that Flint boy doesn’t kill you for it, I’m sure Miss Bulstrode will.”

 

“So, now what?”

 

“Now, my son, we have a new contract to negotiate and sign. This one cannot be dissolved. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Y-yes, Father.”

 

“I’ll owl Aurelius and inform him of the situation. I’d rather deal with him than his son.”

 

“Yes, I can imagine.”

 

“Come on then, introduce me to your wife-to-be and her family.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**_Six months later_ **

 

The wedding reception was coming to an end, and the few remaining guests watched the couple on the dancefloor. The bride and groom were swaying on their last legs after a very long day. With the bride resting her head on the groom’s shoulder and him whispering soft words in her ear, causing her to giggle and blush profusely, they were the epitome of newlywed bliss.

 

For months, the Wizarding world had anticipated this day. Ever since the details of the young couple’s affair had become public, every article in the Prophet or Witch Weekly had seemingly revolved around them. From being considered hussy and inappropriate when the news first broke, their story had evolved in one of the greatest love stories that Wizarding Britain had witnessed. Well, in the opinion of the press that is. Since the couple rarely talked to the reporters and preferred to keep their lives as private as possible, the greatest love story ever was purely based on speculation, gossip, and assumptions.

 

“They look beautiful, don’t they?” Katie said with a longing sigh. She didn’t have a grand wedding like this, although Marcus had promised that one day she would. But, somehow life seemed to get in the way of planning such an event, and she had come to accept that the closest she'd ever get to her dream wedding was to attend others’.

 

Marcus grunted in reply as he rocked their three-year-old son Julius, who was sleeping soundly in his arms. He adored the boy, but he longed to go home and put him to bed so he could give his arms a rest before tomorrow’s match. Normally, Katie was the one rocking their son to sleep, but with her expecting their second cub in a few short months, she had assigned him to do the heavy work. And Julius was just that, tall and big: a mirror image of his father at that age.

 

“We can go home in a few minutes if you want?” Katie giggled at the pleading look on her husband's face. “Let me say goodbye to them first, yeah?”

 

“Hurry up!” Marcus called after her, relieved that his ordeal was almost over. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore; his blood circulation must have been cut off.

 

The bride and groom were in conversation with another couple when Katie reached them. Who would have thought that the whole mess that had been these couples lives just a few months ago, would have a happy ending like this?

 

“He’s gorgeous, Millie. He’s getting big!” Daphne exclaimed as she tried to pry the baby from her friend’s arms.

 

“Of course, he is. He’s my son, after all,” Theo answered as he puffed out his chest pride.

 

“Hush, you. He gets that from me, and you know it.” Millicent sounded more carefree than she felt.

 

The whole day she had to endure the curious glances and hushed conversations behind her back, which had left her irritable and ready to bolt now that the end was in sight. Handing over her son was a bit too much. What if they dropped him or ran off with him?

 

Finally, when Theo wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze, she reluctantly handed over her four-month-old son, Theodore Nott III, to Daphne. It would be her husband's head if something happened to their son.

 

Fortunately for her, Daphne didn’t do any of those things. Instead, she gently rocked the baby. He was adorable, with his silky dark hair and chubby, pink cheeks. Theo was right; he did look like a lot like his father. Young Theo would become a handsome man one day, that much she could see. She couldn’t deny the longing as she watched the little boy in her arms. She could only hope that one day she’d be holding her own child.

 

Katie nudged Harry, who had come to stand next to her. Like her, he was watching the trio’s interaction with wariness. She could understand his reaction. It had been a difficult time in their when Theo’s and Millie’s indiscretion, and the result of it, had come to light. The papers had been full of the story for weeks and just when it had seemed to have died down, it had flared up again after the baby's birth.

 

However, Theo and Millicent’s scandal hadn’t been the most shocking news. No, that had been the revelation that Daphne Greengrass wasn't the innocent victim of the story when an anonymous tip to the Prophet had revealed her involvement with Harry Potter since their fourth year at Hogwarts.

 

The presence her former betrothed and his wife was not something the most guests, or even Daphne’s family, had expected. But, the mending of their friendship had started on the day the newest Nott was born. Through a twist of fate, Daphne had been the only one available to help Millicent through the labour until Theo’s arrival.

 

It hadn't fixed their bond instantly, but Daphne's involvement in little Theodore's birth had certainly helped to get the friendship back on track again. After some heartfelt conversations between the three, they were currently at a point where they could call themselves friends again. Maybe not the best of friends, but they managed to be friendly with each other and let the past rest.

 

“It was a lovely wedding,” Katie told Harry sincerely. “Daphne looks beautiful, and you clean up quite well.”

 

“Yeah, she does, doesn't she?” The groom nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “I can’t believe we’ve made this far. Just a year ago, I thought that I had to watch Daphne marry another man and that there was nothing that I could have done to stop it.”

 

Katie nodded in understanding. She had heard and read all articles about their relationship, of course. Who hadn’t? And thinking back at their Hogwarts years, she sure that she’d almost caught them once when she had tried to sneak out herself. “It all worked out in the end. That’s the most important part. The rest doesn’t matter.”

 

“It’s still strange to see them like that. They look like the old friends they’ve always been. If it had been me, I’m not sure if I would have been that forgiving.”

 

Katie chuckled and bumped his shoulder. “You weren’t innocent either, were you? If I’m not mistaken, your relation with Daphne never stopped after she got engaged.”

 

Harry hummed non-committedly. It was not a subject he wanted to delve into right now. “Do you think he loves her?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Nott. Do you think he loves Bulstrode? Daphne once told me that she was sure that he wasn’t capable of such emotion.”

 

Katie had to think about that for a minute. But seeing Theo kiss Millicent on the top of her head was enough for her. “Does he love her in the way you love Daphne? Although I think she does, I'm sure he doesn't. But, does he love her in the best way he knows how? Yeah, maybe. He does like her, at least. But then again, it’s just been a few months for them with a lot of hurdles. Not like you and Daphne, you had years in private to get where you are now.”

 

Harry nodded, his gaze never leaving his new bride. “How did Flint manage to snatch a witch like you, by the way?”

 

“Booze and a dare.” The words were out before Katie could censor herself. Her cheeks reddened, and she hoped that Harry hadn't heard her.

 

He had, of course, and looked at her confusion. “How so?”

 

“That’s a very long story.”

 

“Now I’m intrigued.”

 

“To keep a long story short; too much wine, a silly dare with my friend, and waking up in a house that was not my parents’. Yeah, that pretty much summarises it.”

 

Well, a part of it.

 

Harry suddenly snapped his fingers as quickly glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Marcus and Julius as something clicked in his head. “Oh… Oh! You being dragged off after your last N.EW.T. makes a lot more sense now. We had bets going on about why, you know. I guess I owe McLaggen a bottle of Firewhisky.”

 

"Fucking McLaggen with his sticky hands," Katie mumbled as she thought about her seventh year. But most of all, she thought about how it had ended for her.

 

Her parents had been waiting for her to finish her last exam and immediately after, they had hauled her off to get married. The time between her last exam and the signature on her marriage certificate was exactly sixty-five minutes. It wasn’t the ultimate romantic love story, but it was theirs. She wouldn’t change a single thing; her life was perfect, even if she never had that dream wedding.

 

And she was sure that in time, Millicent’s and Theo’s life would be the same. He cared for her, Katie was sure of that, and adored his son. No, it wasn’t love between them. Yet. But sometime soon, it would be, and then, Millicent’s happy ending would be complete. Like hers was.

 

“Come on, let’s get over there. I need to say goodbye to Daphne. My men want to go home.”

 

~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

 

“Zabini.”

 

“Malfoy.”

 

“That potion you gave Theo?”

 

“What about it?”

 

…

 

“Who’s the chit, Malfoy?”

 

“Greengrass.”

 

…

 

“Zabini?”

 

“Greengrass? She just got married, you idiot.”

 

“I mean her sister, Astoria. Have some faith in your friends, mate.”

 

“Isn’t she a bit too young for you, Malfoy? How old is she, fourteen?”

 

“She turns nineteen in two weeks.”

 

…

 

“Why her?”

 

“Yeah, uhm, I just want to see if it would work on her.”

 

…

 

“You know, a little birdie told me that she’s waiting for your balls to drop so you can ask her out like a proper gentleman.”

 

“Zabini, come on, don't take the piss. She doesn't even know I'm alive.”

 

"Oh, Gods, there is one is born every minute."

 

…

 

“Sorry, mate. I’ll guess you’ll have to use your charms on her. Or, brew yourself some Amortentia. Or, you know, ask her out.”

 

“Ah, please, can’t I try? I want to know what the fuss is about.”

 

…

 

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you cock it up.”

 

…

 

“Good luck, you’re gonna need it. And for Merlin’s sake, use contraceptive- oh, who am I kidding. He won’t.”

 

...

 

“Idiot.”


End file.
